


Mr. Fahey

by jeshendriks



Category: Six of Crows Series - Leigh Bardugo
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Gay Sex, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Post-Canon, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-20
Updated: 2019-05-20
Packaged: 2020-03-08 19:49:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18901468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jeshendriks/pseuds/jeshendriks
Summary: After returning home from a merchant council meeting, things get spicy, and Wylan decides to exercise some power.





	Mr. Fahey

Jesper kicked off his stiff, shiny shoes as soon as he followed Wylan into their bedroom.  He loosened his tie and fell backward onto their oversized bed. He sank into the mattress and felt his back and shoulders relax almost immediately.

“Who knew sitting still for so long could be so exhausting?” he said.

They'd just returned from a merchant council meeting.  For nearly three hours, Jesper sat in expensively uncomfortable clothes and listened to Wylan discuss trade route restoration with the other council members.  He was proud of the young mercher, but his whole body resented political affairs. 

Wylan flopped down as well, his body nearly perpendicular to Jesper’s, his head on his stomach.  Jesper’s hand instinctively found his mop of curls and got busy twisting his fingers through it.

“I didn’t think you’d last that long,” Wylan said candidly.

“Come on.  I think I deserve some credit.”

“Of course.”  His fiance rolled over and crawled up to place a rich kiss on his lips.  “You were very well-behaved.”

It might have just been wishful thinking, but that kiss  _ had  _ to be asking for more.  He took Wylan’s face in both his hands so he couldn’t slip away too fast.  He wanted to slide his hands all over him, praise all his edges. He could never get tired of looking at him.  “Do I get a prize?”

Wylan’s face grew warm beneath his hands, which only made Jesper grin wider.  After all the years they’d been together, he still took pride in his ability to fluster his fiance.  He squeezed his cheeks together and pecked him on the lips. He wanted to linger, but he feared Wylan might combust.

“Maybe if you keep your mouth shut,” he said without a hint of humor.  Jesper was surprised at the twinge under his stomach it caused.

“You and I both know that’s pretty much impossible.”

Wylan sat down on his fiance.  His weight was welcome and comfortable on his abdomen.  Jesper’s hands fell down to the small curve of his hips as he straddled him.  His cheeks were still touched with pink, but his demeanor had definitely changed.  Jesper yearned to see more of it.

“I don’t think we do anything unless it’s nearly impossible.”

Excited energy thrummed through Jesper’s body.  He could hardly lie still under Wylan. His fingers curled into the expensive fabric of his shirt.  He realized with a sudden pang that he wanted it off of him. “You make a valid point, merchling.” 

“So,” said Wylan, wrapping his fingers around Jesper’s jaw, “if you can behave for an entire merchant council meeting, surely you can behave for me.”

Jesper’s heart gave one hard, eager thud, and he knew every bit of that new blood was going straight to his groin.  He squirmed under Wylan, and the young mercher tightened his grip around his jaw. His palm was a soft, warm pressure against the top of his throat.  He tilted his chin up.

Jesper released a breathy laugh.  “Not that I’m complaining  _ at all _ , but what’s gotten into you?”

He watched Wylan’s gaze glide over him.  He liked that smug little tug of his lips, the decisive twinkle in his blue eyes, how his body bristled with new energy.  He liked how easily he was slipping into this new position. They were to be married in just months. He had held his father's place in the merchant council for years.  And yet, Jesper was still impressed at how good power looked on him. 

“It could be you.”  Wylan shifted his weight up so his face was directly above Jesper’s.  He planted a hand by his head, his back curving forward gracefully.

Jesper tried to lean up to him, but his fiance kept him down flat with a firm shove.  He was not at all ashamed of his prompt half erection, or how it grew harder with anticipation and each of Wylan’s movements.

The mercher placed his hand against the side of Jesper’s face.  He rubbed his thumb over his cheekbone and tilted his head to the side as he admired the man beneath him.  Though he moved slowly and carefully, somehow it kept Jesper on edge.

“Be still, Jes.”  Wylan’s voice was just a whisper, but it sent chills breaking across his skin.

He nearly barked a laugh.  “Wylan, I--”

“Hush.”  This time it definitely sounded like an order.  “Don’t speak unless you’re prompted. And when you are, you will address me as Mr. Hendriks.  Do you understand?”

_ Saints _ .  Jesper’s toes curled in his stockings.  He couldn't help his foolish grin. He turned his head and placed a polite kiss to Wylan’s palm.  “Yes, Mr. Hendriks.”

Wylan’s smile was almost as giddy.  Jesper got the impression he hadn’t anticipated this would go so well.  “I’ve changed my mind,” he said. “I want to you call me Mr. Fahey instead.”

Jesper lifted an eyebrow, still smiling. His name sounded exquisite on his fiance’s tongue.

Wylan’s blush never strayed too far.  It was leaking back into his cheeks. “We haven’t decided what to do with surnames.  I thought I’d try it out.”

“Of course, Mr. Fahey.”

He wasn’t completely successful in hiding that smile.  He popped open Jesper’s first shirt button as he gave him a light kiss.  His deft fingers made quick work of the shirt. 

Wylan dragged his hand down the center of his chest.  Jesper bristled with the touch, pulling his shoulders back and arching his spine.  He’d made the mistake of letting his fiance know how much he wanted him, and now he was going to make him wait.

The mercher dismounted Jesper and snagged a feel of his bulge.  He had no control over his bucking hips, the clipped moan that escaped his lips, or how good that tiny shred of attention felt.  He glanced down at the tent in his own trousers and knew Wylan had all the power.

His fiance grabbed his collar with one hand and tugged him backward.  Jesper flopped against the mountain of pillows at the head of the bed.  Wylan kissed the side of his face, and then gingerly down the side of his neck.  It wasn’t enough. He wanted to grab his fiance and ravish him, not stop until he was finished.  But the thought of Wylan slowly and tenderly torturing him made his cock throb more. He wanted to be under his control.  He wanted to be tamed.

Wylan’s hand traveled down his chest, his stomach, and then unfastened his trousers.  Jesper inhaled sharply as he palmed him through his underwear. He craned his head back.  A low moan rumbled in his throat.

“Look at me, Jes.”

He felt heat flaring up his own cheeks as he turned his gaze to his fiance.  Wylan stared at him with determined, steady eyes. He rolled Jesper’s clothed head between his thumb and index finger.  His fiance gasped, his hips jerking again.

It seemed to please the mercher.  Lips quirking, he asked, “Do you want me, Jes?”

Jesper swallowed.  His heels dug into the mattress.  “Yes, Mr. Fahey.”

Wylan freed him from his underwear and trousers.  His palm passed over his length, the barest of touches, just a wicked little tease, but Jesper’s insides still churned and fussed.  Heat collected between his hips and at the base of his spine.

He wanted to tell this boy he loved him, but he was pretty sure that might have been breaking his rules.

Wylan opened his nightstand drawer and fished out a small bottle of lubricant.  Jesper beamed in admiration. The last he knew, he didn’t keep anything sexy in his drawers.  He must have snuck around and acquired it by himself. It still raised the question of if he’d been planning this or not, and if he  _ had _ been, how long he’d been scheming.

The mercher squeezed the glossy fluid into his palm and got to work slicking it up Jesper’s shaft.  The friction heated it up quickly, and soon it was sticky bliss around his cock. He felt Wylan’s gaze on him as he closed his eyes and groaned.  His heel scuffed restlessly back and forth over the sheets. Normally he’d complain about only receiving a meager handjob, but this submissive position gave the act a whole new sensation.  And the truth was, his fiance’s jerking skills were nothing to sneeze at. Those musician’s hands were methodic and gifted. He was just another instrument in Wylan’s well of talent.

Jesper’s breath hitched when the pressure and friction let up.  Wylan’s fingers were wrapped around the end of his cock. His thumb massaged slow circles around his head.   _ Sneaky little tease, _ was his immediate thought, but it was quickly followed and stifled by  _ Keep teasing me. _

Wylan was sprawled parallel to him, resting on his hip elegantly, propped up with his free hand.  His head tilted smugly. “Does it feel good, Jesper?”

“Yes, Mr. Fahey.”  He didn’t mean for his voice to sound so shaky and needy.

He rewarded him with a single pump.  “Louder.”

Jesper pleaded, “Yes, Mr. Fahey, it feels so good.”

Wylan smirked and pumped a few more times, this time pressing into his head just a little and twisting his palm.  He felt pressure start to build in his core. Saints, he was already dripping, how embarrassing. Then, of course, his fiance stopped.

He accidentally whined, and Wylan laughed.  The mercher rolled off the bed and made a good show of unfastening his trousers and wriggling out of them.  Jesper’s eyes raked over his exposed half--his fair, pearly, freckled thighs, the tent in his white briefs. He glimpsed his perfect, round little ass as he crawled back onto the bed.  Jesper ached to put his hands all over him.

Wylan settled down on his taut thighs.  He placed both his hands on Jesper’s stomach and fondly slipped them down to where his hip bones jutted.  His gaze lingered heavily on his exposed, leaking cock, and Jesper twitched. He saw something pass over Wylan's face--desire?  Perhaps greed, or contemplation? He didn’t care. He liked cooking alive under those eyes. He lifted his hips a little as if to better display his goods.

Wylan carefully pulled his own cock from his underwear.  Jesper throbbed and bit his lip. Seeing his fiance’s cock always felt like a blessing from the Saints.  It was nothing to choke on, but it was shapely and pretty as it was pink. He wanted to give it all the love and attention he deserved.

Wylan squeezed more lube into his hand.  He scooted forward on his knees. His length brushed against Jesper’s, and he noted the strained little twitch of his lips.  His swollen little head was already oozing.

“Saints, I want you,” blurted Jesper.

Wylan’s lips curved into a triumphant grin.  His cheeks had flushed pink again. He slicked the lube up his own cock, and for a moment Jesper was terrified he was being punished and was going to have to watch his fiance touch himself while he lied there, cock throbbing helplessly.

“Say it again,” he said.

“I want you, Mr. Fahey,” Jesper repeated.

“Again.”

“I want you, I want you, I want you.”

“I want you, too.”

“Please.”  Looking down at their cocks did nothing to ease him.  He writhed beneath the mercher, desperate for just a bit of contact.

At last, Wylan pushed his hips forward and wrapped his hands around both their cocks.  Small noises hummed behind his lips. Jesper watched his spread thighs tense and his spine straighten.  It felt too good. His warm, sticky cock slid against his own. His hands were feverishly at work, rubbing hot friction into them.  He began to raise and lower his hips, frotting his cock up and down, parallel to Jesper’s.

He took pride in the difference in their cocks--Jesper’s was longer, thicker, and darker.  He liked how nice his fiance’s looked against it. Wylan lifted up until their heads were even.  His thumb stroked over them, and Jesper bucked at the pressure.

“Are you close?” Wylan asked.

“Yes, Mr. Fahey.”

“Hold on,” he instructed, even though he was making it nearly impossible not to cum all over him.  “Keep your eyes on me.”

Wylan’s hands pumped faster.  Jesper loved to see how the tension rose in him.  He was in control now, but he was still Wylan Hendriks, sheepish little genius, whose melting point was magnificently easy to reach.

He circled his thumbs over each of their heads, palms swiveling madly.  “I’m going to ride your cock so good,” he declared, and Jesper melted too.

He was the first to finish.  It blew through him like a bullet from a barrel, spurting out of his cock in a nearly vertical ribbon.  Wylan kept on rubbing against him as he spasmed. He came not even seconds later, in a few, separated spouts.  

Jesper’s stomach and Wylan’s thighs were syrupped.  Jesper liked that he couldn’t tell whose was whose. His chest rose and fell rapidly.  Soft whines escaped with Wylan’s every breath.

Seeing Wylan in his wobbly, post-orgasmic state was more than enough to keep Jesper up.  He could tell his fiance had let his authority dissolve quite a bit. It had been more than perfect getting him off the first time, but he was content to take over for the next if he had to.

“Ride my cock, huh?”

Wylan turned a wonderful shade of red and scowled.  “I’m a man of my word.”

He picked up the lube, but Jesper snatched his wrist.

He started to pry the bottle from his fingers with his other hand.  “Let me, Mr. Fahey.”

Wylan disdainfully let go.  “Now you’re mocking me.”

“I like the way it sounds,” Jesper laughed.  “Will you kiss me, Mr. Fahey?”

The future Mr. Fahey fell into the current one and pressed his mouth sloppily to his.  Jesper’s cock rubbed against his warm inner thigh, causing him to grunt. Wylan braced his hands against his chest.  He clambered out of his underwear.

Jesper lubed up his fingers.  He kissed his lips once and reached behind him.

“Come on,” Wylan urged, back arching, hips convulsing.

Jesper laughed into his skin.  His other hand pressed into the small of his back.  He entered Wylan first with his thumb. When he was satisfied with his small moan, he prodded in with his index.  He felt him clench as his finger bottomed out, and then he added his middle. He was tight as he always was. Jesper held him steady in his lap and pressed kisses to his fevered skin.

He withdrew his digits.  Wylan grabbed his face and kissed him furiously on the mouth.  Jesper readied his hands on his hips.

“I want you inside me,” Wylan murmured against his lips.  His eyes were closed but fluttering.

Jesper laughed.  “I’ll get right on it, Mr. Fahey.”

He lined up with Wylan and pushed him gently down onto his dick.  He groaned as soon as his head was inside. Suddenly everything beyond his fiance was gone.  It was just him, his warm body, and his lovely, tight little ass. He knew Wylan felt good, but every time he fucked him, it felt new.  Firing his revolvers for the first time, kissing Wylan for the first time, that sweet bullet to the chest when he first realized he loved him.

“Jes,” he whined.  “C’mon.”

“Easy, I don’t wanna tear you open.”  He inched in a bit farther.

“Shut up.”  Wylan sat down hard, and Jesper moaned.  “It’s not  _ that  _ big.”

“Saints,” he breathed.  “Saints, Wy.”

The young mercher took Jesper’s face and tilted it up towards his.  His eyebrows were scrunched together, his pert lips open slightly. “You’re mine, Jes.”

“I’m yours,” he agreed.

Wylan lifted himself up and down to start the rhythm.  Jesper guided his hips, and soon he was fucking him. He slammed down onto his hips over and over again.  Jesper pushed as deep as he could. Wylan gasped when he struck his prostate. The pressure riled through Jesper’s cock and made his body quake.

“Right there,” moaned Wylan.

He didn’t even have to tell him.  Jesper pounded harder and faster.  He panted and grunted, sweat collecting on his skin.  Pleasure gathered in knots at his spine and through his thighs.  His cock was hot and frantic. 

Jesper’s fingers dug into his ass.  Wylan’s mouth was agape, and his eyes rolled back beneath half-lidded eyes.  His cock was dripping and bouncing against each of their stomachs. Jesper was keen to hit that spot with every forceful thrust.

He was sure he could have came on the sounds of Wylan’s moans alone, but knowing he was drawing each one out of him, being the reason for his pleasure, knowing it was  _ his  _ cock inside of him was what pushed him nearly to the edge.

“Wy,” he warned.  “I’m--”

“Hush,” his fiance snapped.  “Cum for me, Mr. Fahey.”

Jesper thrust into Wylan one last time.  He held him down on his cock as he came, hard and hot and thick, up into him.

“Jes!”

His orgasm hadn’t subsided before Wylan hit his.  Jesper watched it dash up his thighs and bend his spine back into a beautiful arch.  It erupted from his cock and all over his fiance’s stomach. He fluttered and quivered around Jesper’s cock, coaxing out one last bold spurt.

The last of Wylan’s orgasm ebbed out of him.  He was limp in Jesper’s hands. His body swelled with each slow, deep breath.  

Jesper grinned at him.  His heartbeat had slowed to long, hard thumps.  His body was hot and still pulsating. Wylan rolled off of him and collapsed on the pillows next to him.  He blinked slowly, still shaking. Jesper squeezed him and peppered his warm face with kisses of every sort.

“Comments?  Criticisms?” he asked into his neck.

Wylan breathed a laugh.  He squirmed and pushed Jesper’s face away.  “You’re covered in semen, and unfortunately we’re to the point where it’s no longer sexy.”

The mercher was right.  They would soon be glued together if they didn’t do something about it.

“I can make  _ anything  _ sexy,” Jesper protested.  He tackled Wylan and assaulted him with more kisses.  

Wylan resisted, but finally, he caught his mouth and kissed him properly into compliance.  When he pulled away, his eyes were slow to open again. He wanted to savor that feeling.

“I love you.”  The words came from lips so naturally, Jesper didn’t remember making the decision to say them.

Wylan pulled him down for another kiss, and then said, “I’ll say it back once we’re clean.”

**Author's Note:**

> if someone bothers me i'll write another one


End file.
